*CHAPTER X.*
*ADAM HEPBURN'S VOW.*
The business of life seemed to be standing still in Inverburn. Althoughit was not the season of the year in which much outdoor labour could beaccomplished, the barren fields still lay waiting to be upturned by theplough, and all interest in the ordinary routine of work seemed to beabsorbed in other things. The morning after the quartering of thesoldiery on the householders there were many strange sights and soundswitnessed and heard in the quiet hamlet of Inverburn. Needless to saythat the inn was the chief rendezvous, and honest Mistress Lyall had topour out her ale and whisky, and even her small stock of wine andbrandy, without stint or payment. The swearing horde took possession ofthe bar, and, in the terror of her soul, poor Katie Lyall flew to aneighbour's house, and left them in undisturbed possession. Havingdrunk their fill, the ruffians made a raid on every house, lifting whatvaluables they could lay hands upon, and insulting the women, andbringing many a burning blush to the fair cheek of youth. The unarmedand defenceless men folk in the village were only deterred from openresistance by the sight of the long gleaming swords and loaded pistolsof the troopers. But curses, not loud but deep, filled the quiet air,and many a manly hand was clenched, many a manly voice uttered a deepand ominous vow of vengeance.
About half-past nine Sir James Turner and his subordinate officers rodedown the manse brae, and, drawing rein at the head of the villagestreet, sounded the _reveille_. In a short time the regiment was inmarching order, and the horses' heads were turned towards Rowallan. Andthen many a fervent prayer rose to Heaven that the God of Hosts wouldthrow the strong arm of His defence about Adam Hepburn's house, andshelter its dear inmates from the bloody men. Early that morning AdamHepburn had walked across the fields to Hartrigge to warn David Gray ofhis danger, and to bid the inmates of the house be prepared for a visitfrom the soldiery. He arrived to find the minister of Broomhill quietlyseated at breakfast with the family, having just crept up from hishiding-place. It was at once hastily resolved that, as it was stillearly, Adam Hepburn and David Gray should creep down into the valleybehind Hartrigge, and, keeping within shelter of the trees andbrushwood, follow the course of the Douglas Water until they reached theCorbie's Cliff; then, entering the mouth of the subterranean passage,join the minister of Inverburn in his hiding at Rowallan.
The children at Hartrigge, all but Gavin, being too young to understandthe peril of the hour, wondered why uncle David bade them farewell sosolemnly and with tears in his eyes; and little Jeanie, listening to hislast words to her mother, pondered them long in her heart.
"Farewell, Susan, my sister. The Lord requite thee for thy sisterlykindness to me, who, now a wanderer on the face of the earth, can neverhope either to acknowledge or repay it. And may the Lord also vouchsafethe wings of His shelter to this house and its inmates, and shield themin the day of trouble."
Mistress Gray wrung the minister's hand, but was unable to speak.Andrew Gray himself accompanied them to the door, but their partingwords were interrupted by the shrill echo of the trumpets sounding the_reveille_ in the village along the vale. Then Adam Hepburn and theminister understanding that ominous sound, plunged into the thicket, andscrambled down the steep into the richly wooded valley below. Meanwhilethe women folk at Rowallan busied themselves with their household tasks,and Agnes at least longing for her husband's return. The nervous fearhad so grown upon her of late that she was never a moment at rest, savewhen he was by her side. As she stepped out into the courtyard with abasin of warm food for the poultry, the clatter of hoofs fell upon herears, and turning her startled eyes in the direction of the road, shesaw what appeared to be a moving mass of steel, glittering in the chillwinter sunshine, and coming rapidly towards the house.
With a slight scream she dropped the basin with its contents, and fledinto the house. Jane Gray, hearing the noise, came hurrying downstairs,and caught her trembling sister in her arms.
"Agnes, my lamb, what is it? What has so frightened you?" she asked,anxiously.
"The soldiers, Jane! they are here!" exclaimed the terrified girl. "Oh,Jane, hide me from them! I wish Adam had not gone away!"
Even Jane Gray's brave heart quailed at the thought of their defencelessstate, but she tried to console and assure her sister.
"Don't be afraid, my dearie, they will never harm two defenceless women,and Adam must now be near home. It is nigh two hours since he wentaway."
Before she could say more the troops swept across the stack-yard, anddrew up with a great clatter before the door. The pawing and snortingof the horses, the rattling of their trappings, and the voices of themen, made a strange and alarming din about the quiet house of Rowallan.
Jane Gray placed her sister in a chair, shut the sitting-room door, anddrawing herself up, as if with a sudden courage, went out boldly to thedoor. She was deadly pale, but her demeanour was outwardly perfectlyunmoved.
At sight of the woman, Sir James Turner, a coarse and forbidding-lookingman, rode his horse up to the very doorstep, and fixed his insolent eyeson the fair, calm face.
"Well, mistress, this is the rebellious house of Rowallan, is it not?Are you the wife of that notorious Whig, Adam Hepburn, who sopersistently disavows the king's commands, and shelters the rebelpreachers?"
"This is Rowallan, sir," Jane Gray made answer in a clear, steadfastvoice. "But I am not Adam Hepburn's wife. There is none within thishouse but me and my sister, who is in delicate health. May I appeal toyour honour as a soldier and a gentleman not to needlessly distress oralarm us?"
A coarse laugh fell from Turner's lips, which was re-echoed by hissubordinates.
"A modest request, truly; I might grant it if I get a kiss from thosesweet lips for my payment. But say, is that renegade old man, AndrewGray, the field preacher, not hidden in the house?"
"He is _not_," said Jane Gray, calmly, while a red spot began to burnhotly on either cheek.
"I am sorry I cannot take your word for it, mistress," said Turner,coolly. "With your permission we will make a search of the house.Here, Dawson and McTavish," he added, turning to a corporal and asergeant, "dismount, and search the house, and you, Captain Blane, andyoung Drew, with the others make a thorough inspection of the outhouses.Now, ma'am, let me have a glass of ale or wine to cool my thirst, andshow you a loyal subject of the king."
For peace' sake, as well as on the account of her sister, Jane Graycrushed back the indignant refusal burning for utterance, and, holdingthe door open, briefly bade him enter. She led the way direct to theroom where Agnes sat, judging it better that she should be present withher, before the soldiers in their search reached the sitting-room. Atsight of the spurred and booted soldier, with his fierce aspect andforbidding eye, Agnes Hepburn again uttered a slight scream, but Janehastily laid her hand on her lips.
"Hush, hush, Agnes; Sir James Turner will not harm you. He has but comein for some slight refreshment," she said, hurriedly.
"Is this Adam Hepburn's wife, then?" asked Sir James, with insolentcuriosity. "Do not tremble so, my sweet mistress. Unless compelled byduty, I would not lay a finger on you. But come, tell me where yourbrave husband, and the old man, your father, are in hiding, and we willgo away and leave the house in peace."
"I do not know; my husband has not been at home for--for--long," Agnesfaltered back, and breathing an inward and passionate prayer that theLord might detain him on the way until the dragoons had left the place.
"How glibly these pretty lips can utter a falsehood!" said Turner,mockingly. But just then he was somewhat mollified by the sight of acup of rich Burgundy, which Jane Gray had brought from the cupboard toappease his wrath.
"By the powers, I never tasted the like in a Whig house before!" hesaid, smacking his lips. "For your courtesy to me, mistress, I will notinsist upon your revealing the rebel hiding-place. I know your kind,and how obstinate they can be when they choose; yet I swear that, ifAdam Hepburn or the minister be about Rowa
llan, they shall not escapethis day."
The two men who had been searching the house now appeared in thedoorway, saying they had met with no success, and that there was nopossible corner within the four walls where a fugitive could be hid.
Turner then rose and left the house to superintend the search outside.
With agonised eyes the two women watched from the window, trembling atthe long delay the searchers made in the barn.
But at length, to their unspeakable relief, those who had entered itagain emerged into the open air, and it was quite evident from theirfaces that their search had been unsuccessful.
After some little delay and consultation, Turner gave the word ofcommand, and the dragoons sprang to horse once more, and stood ready inthe courtyard to depart. Then Turner again approached the door, wherethe sisters now stood, for they could not rest within.
"Though we have been unsuccessful to-day, mistresses," he said, in anangry tone, "we will yet lay hands upon the renegades. I know not whatkeeps me from compelling you to divulge the secret of theirhiding-place; but, hark! I will not be so lenient when I come back.It's not the first time I have had to make a wench confess at the pointof the sword."
At that moment, to the dismay and horror of the women, Wyllie, Adam'scollie, came running round from the stack-yard barking furiously.Knowing he had accompanied his master to Hartrigge, they stood inintense and silent agony, momentarily expecting to see Adam stride roundthe corner, and then----. Jane's lip quivered, Agnes covered her facewith her hands, and a low moan escaped her lips.
Turner, thinking his threat had frightened them sufficiently, turned hishorse's head, and gave the order to march. The dog, now in a perfectfury, and seeming to have taken a special dislike to the commander, ranbarking and snapping at the horse's heels.
"Some of you put a bullet through that yelping cur!" he said, with agreat oath. Almost as if understanding the brutal order, Wyllie turnedtail and ran to his mistress's side, crouching in at her skirts.Turner's order was obeyed, and two pistols were recklessly fired towardsthe door, heedless of the danger to the women. They missed their aim,but found a mark in Agnes Hepburn's side. Without a sound she fell ather sister's feet. For a moment Turner looked dumbfounded and as ifuncertain what to do; then, with another great oath, he repeated theword of command, and the whole troop rode off towards Hartrigge. Beforethey were well out of sight Adam Hepburn, just arrived in theunderground shelter with David Gray, pushed up the trap-door, andstepped out into his own barn-yard. From the great confusion and marksof hoofs, he at once saw that the dragoons had visited Rowallan in hisabsence, and, with sinking heart, lest any harm should have befallen hisdarling, he hurried into the house.
At the door Wyllie met him, and looked up into his face with a piteousmoan. The dread stillness in the house almost made the man's heartstand still. He strode through the kitchen, and when he stood upon thethreshold of the sitting-room door, what a sight met his view! Upon thecouch lay the prostrate form of his wife, and Jane kneeling by her side,apparently laving something with water. But stay; what was thatstaining the whiteness of the handkerchief? Was it blood?
"My God, Jane, what is this?" he asked, hoarsely, and, with one step,was at the side of the couch.
Then he saw the wound in his wife's side, from which her life blood wasslowly ebbing.
"They have been here! That is their work, Adam!" Jane Gray answered, ina voiceless whisper. "The bullet intended for poor Wyllie pierced herside! Oh, my poor sister!"
Adam Hepburn knelt down by the couch, and, folding his strong arms aboutthe unconscious figure, called his wife by every endearing name to lookup to tell him she was not dead. The tones of that well-beloved voiceseemed to recall for a brief space the ebbing breath of life.
The long lashes stirred on the white cheek; after a tremor of the lidsthey were lifted, and the sweet eyes met his in a look of unutterablelove. It was the last effort of the feeble strength. In the moment ofagony which followed, the breath gently left the lips, the beat of theheart was stilled for ever, and Agnes Hepburn was safe from the troubleto come.
In the deep and awful silence which ensued a strange and terrible changewas wrought upon the face of Adam Hepburn. The pleasant lines andcurves, which had but added to its beauty, were deepened into thefurrows of a desperate resolution. Gently he laid his dead wife backupon the pillow, and, walking over to the hearth, took down his father'ssword from its accustomed place on the wall, and returned with it to theside of the couch.
"I call you to witness, Jane Gray, that I swear here, by the body of mymurdered wife, that this sword shall never again be allowed to dry inits sheath until it has been wetted with the life blood of as manydragoons as there were years upon my darling's head," he said, in slow,deep, measured tones, and with eyes gleaming with a fierce resolve."And God do so to me, and more also, if I fail to stand to the veryletter of my vow!"